


Vicious Traditions

by Clarice Chiara Sorcha (claricechiarasorcha)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Competitive Assholes, Crack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, More Snark Than Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claricechiarasorcha/pseuds/Clarice%20Chiara%20Sorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After crash-landing on a hostile planet, Hux and Ren have to adhere to some more...<i>unusual</i>...of the local customs. Of course they're going to make a competition of it.</p>
<p>...as if <i>that's</i> ever ended well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vicious Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> So, I asked on tumblr yesterday for some little drabble prompts to see if I couldn't trick my dumb brain into writing something, and while I had a few suggestions offered, @choptail came up with this:
> 
> _Oh fun! Hux and Kylo trying to pass as non-First Order after being stranded in a hostile city and loosing their Troopers? Everyone assumes they’re a couple and they have to just roll with it. Fuming?_
> 
> It was supposed to be just a few paragraphs. Obviously, it got out of hand. And it really is far more about these two sniping at one another, and constantly trying to one-up each other, than it is about smut. And is likely entirely OOC. Goddammit. But also, special thanks to @cracktheglasses for demanding I do something with the answer I gave to this prompt, and also to @ottenebrare, @jonstarks, and @kerynnkeeperm99 for offering up some other ideas to encourage me to write again despite a troublesome brain. You guys are great. <3 Thank you!

“Why would I make something like that up?”

Resisting the urge to press the heel of one hand to his temple – _barely_ – Hux shook his aching head. “Well, you keep the half-cremated skull of Darth Vader in your quarters, Ren. I don’t pretend to understand your hobbies.”

His childish features folded immediately into a literal pout. “How do you know about that?”

“It _is_ my damn ship!” And it took a terrible force of will to bring his voice back from the shout, temper frayed and hands fisted at his sides. Pursing his lips together, Hux managed to grit out his next words in an almost civil tone. “And it doesn’t matter right now. What _does_ is this – we’re stuck in the middle of some planet-wide fertility rite. Yes?”

“It’s very sacred,” he repeated, mouth still in that unhappy moue. “As in, fatal to non-participants. …or tourists, if you prefer that term.”

“Was I complaining about terminology?”

“Well, you usually do.”

His glacial tone of earlier was now replaced by the grinding of teeth. “We need to locate a comm station of some kind,” he said, and pulled on his shirt hem, again; he’d never liked wearing civvies. “Preferably one I can modify to a secure channel.”

Ren shook his hair back, eyes sharp as they raked around the road, again. “We’ll need to go deeper into the city,” he said, almost reluctantly. “Where the party is. So to speak.”

Though he’d suspected as much – and hadn’t wanted to come into the city, even before Ren had started reading the minds of those crowds also on the same road – Hux paused, let it sink in. “Well.” Another group passed them by, singing and carousing, spring flowers in their hair. “What are you waiting for?”

The look that earned him from Ren actually seemed almost admiring. Then, catching himself – the other man snorted, turned with surprising economy of motion on one heel, and strode on ahead. With a roll of his own eyes, Hux hurried to catch up even as he very determinedly made it appear as if he moved at a mere stroll.

But for all they tended to throw one another off their respective strides, slowing and speeding with no real pattern, Ren never allowed more than a foot of space between them. Given the looks they garnered from the growing crowds of people around them, it was entirely purposeful. And Hux kept his frowns to himself. The concept of a people who went homicidal at trespassers on their sacred festivals wasn’t strictly inconceivable, for all he’d long been aware of Ren’s off-colour sense of humour.

As they drew closer to the city nearest their crash site, the sights and scents grew thick and vibrant, sharp upon his tongue, the music and voices clamouring over one another in rising cacophony. A market seemed to wend its way through the town entire, reaching out down streets and alleyways alike. The coming of night only made it all the brighter. Gleaming lanterns were strung across narrow streets, the press of people too warm, their voices a tangle of Basic and more native tongues. Hux kept pressing ahead. He wanted something larger, more anonymous than most of the public houses they were passing, even with all the people who spilled out from their crowded interiors.

And then a flurry of movement to his left caught his eye; his hand stilled a moment later over the concealed holster of his blaster. “What are you _doing_?”

“Blending in,” Ren replied, voice half-muffled by the pull of fabric over his head. And Hux shook his head, eyes narrowed.

“By being half- _naked_?”

His head popped free, dark hair a shining cloud around his grin; it had a distinctly nasty edge to it. “Look around you, Hux.”

He curled his lip. “I’d prefer not to.”

A roll of those dark eyes indicated exactly what Ren made of that, but he didn’t put the shirt back on. Rather, he tied it around his waist – a smooth and narrow waist, as it turned out. One that tapered in sharp lines to the low cut of his trousers.

And then Ren snorted. “So you’re just going to stare at _me_ , instead?”

Hux’s eyes snapped back to his stupid face. “Shut up, Ren.”

But the laughter that met this response didn’t come from Ren’s sulky mouth. “Well,” a distinctly feminine voice said with clear low fascination, “aren’t you going to match him, then?”

With his hand hovering once more just above where his blaster rested, Hux turned to face the first people who had addressed them since their entrance to the city. There he found two women, both younger than they were, though hardly adolescent. The taller of the two, dark-haired and sloe-eyed, continued to openly assess the not-unpleasant view before her. And before his tongue could snap out the reply he instinctively reached for, Ren’s mind ghosted over his, uncomfortable and peculiar as ever.

_Don’t be a_ tourist _, Hux_.

His voice had turned as stiff as his absent uniform. “I prefer not to remove my shirt in public.”

The other woman sighed. “But why ever not?”

“He’s shy.” Ren leaned too close by far, actually resting his chin upon Hux’s shoulder; the boniness of it dug warningly into even the tense muscle there. And Ren’s laughter rumbled through him, low and easy. “He thinks because he’s not built the way that I am, he’s somehow _inferior_.” One hand snaked around his waist, drew him hard against Ren’s chest. “But he’s very pretty. Under all this.”

He yanked himself away, both by instinct and with outrage. “I am not _pretty_!”

“Of course you are.”

And there was no thought at all in the next motion, stripping away the damned scratchy material of the anonymous shirt he’d found in the hold. With hands on his hips, wiry frame half-revealed, he glared fit to burn holes straight through even Ren’s thick skull.

“Is _this_ pretty?”

Hux’s demanding tone was met only by a lazy smile. “You already know what I think.”

Had he been a lesser man, Hux would have hurled the shirt in his face -- and only the chuckle of the women beside him distracted him from their glaring match. But when he looked back to them, they’d moved on from his own physique. Their appreciative looks had instead moved down over Ren’s legs, still concealed as they were. With a scowl, and almost entirely without logical thought, Hux reached forward and firmly cupped his crotch.

“I do apologise, ladies,” he drawled, one eyebrow raised high, “but this bit is for _me_ , and me alone. No trousers will be removed today.” His fingers tightened, just enough. “At least, not out _here_.”

With a cluck of tongues, their arms now about one another, the women dissolved into giggles as they moved on. Only when they’d melted into the crowd did he realise Ren now openly goggled at him.

“You just _grabbed_ my _dick_.”

His headache was not getting any better. “It’s your own damn fault,” he hissed, and his eyes shot over to Ren’s over-large hands, suspiciously still. “And you can leave mine alone, thank you all the same.”

Hux didn’t like the glint in his eye. It didn’t stop him from moving on, Ren trailing him but a moment behind. He kept his eyes forward, still looking for a suitable venue to plug in his own coded datachip.

And then his skin crawled, sudden and strange. He looked back, saw Ren had fallen behind – not far, but enough that Hux strode over. He was looking away, brow furrowed. Following Ren’s gaze, sharp reprimand on his tongue, Hux glanced down the same alleyway.

Then, grasping his arm so tight his nails dug into firm muscle, Hux pulled him back and around.

“Don’t _stare_ at them, Ren!”

It still took him another moment to turn away from the sight of a woman fellating a very enthusiastic partner; where his eyes met Hux’s own, they had turned wide and very dark. “I just…”

The bewildered tone meant Hux just couldn’t help himself. “I bet you have no idea how to suck a dick,” he said, satisfaction oozing from every word. Almost immediately Ren’s expression turned sour, nose crinkled above his upturned lip.

“I bet I _do_.” And then he laughed, sudden and strange; it quite transformed his entire face, even before his tongue curved over his lips. His unfairly _plump_ lips. “Hey. You want to see?”

Hux scowled. “Of course not.”

“Liar.” His triumph almost made him attractive. “I can read minds.”

Already turning his face back to the festival, Hux crossed his arms over his chest, strangely immune to any chill in the air. “And you don’t do it very well, apparently.”

“Oh, no.” One hand snatched out, caught Hux about the chin. “I’m _very_ good at it.”

Yanking his face to one side, Hux took a smart step backward just to be sure he was out of range. “I suppose you have to be good at _something_. Statistical probability, and all that.”

The mouth on his should have come as a surprise. Somehow, it didn’t – and it matched his impressions of Ren, entirely. Overbearing and too hot and too fierce, tongue pushing in before it was warranted, hands awkward even as Ren loomed over him.

In return, Hux reached up, dug his fingers deep into his scalp; Ren gave a sharp groan of protest, but Hux broke the kiss only when he wanted to. Breathing hard, hand still fisted in his hair, he smirked up with clear victory. “You’re a terrible kisser.”

Ren didn’t even try to pull away, breath hot against his skin. “Well, I said I wanted to suck your _dick_ , not your tongue.”

“Is _that_ what you said?”

At the harshness of those words, now Ren did pull back. The confusion in his eyes made him almost endearing, shoulders hunching forward. “I…”

Hux allowed himself a chuckle, reaching out with one hand to trail fingers down the biceps of his right arm. “Surely a Knight of Ren is a man of his word,” he murmured, and then glanced up, from under what he knew were long, almost lovely golden lashes.

As expected, Ren folded – and then breathed in sharp, through his nose. “Fine.”

“Well, don’t make it sound like a _chore_ , Ren.”

First, that got him a glare that reminded Hux of watching Ren using his ridiculous powers to toss fully-grown adults around like children’s toys. And then the idiot actually took his hand, propelling him away with a strength that had his shoulder joint giving a surprised pop. Even as he thought about protesting, Hux supposed it looked good to the locals; a thunder-faced Ren, dragging his partner off for private ravishment.

But the moment that realisation actually clarified in his mind, it was followed by a veritable deluge of second thoughts. Of very _sensible_ second thoughts. And yet Ren already stormed through a foyer, completely ignoring the intricacies of reception and payment.

“Ren, you can’t just—”

“It’s called the _Force_ , Hux.” He continued his inelegant crash towards the elevator. “Now, shut up.”

Hux did, but he’d forever claim it was the breathless pace that did it. Ren didn’t even wait for the elevator; within two seconds of hitting the call button, he gave a muttered curse and turned for the stairwell. A dizzying ascent later, Hux found himself tugged down a corridor of luxurious and whispering expense. He hardly had the time to appreciate it before a door opened, then slammed closed behind them without any help of hands. And then, in the bedroom beyond a living area Hux scarcely caught sight of, Ren pushed him down, seating him on the edge of a decidedly oversized bed.

“Ren—”

But he had already insinuated himself between his thighs, blunt fingers moving quick over the flies of his trousers. A moment, and then: a hot mouth descended on him, far more interesting about his cock than it had been on his mouth. His head thrust back, hands fisting in the thick wool of the blanket.

And Ren, for all he kissed like an overeager adolescent, apparently _did_ have some idea of what he was doing here. With tongue and lips and the faintest hint of teeth, his fingers delicate over the soft skin of thighs, the warm fuzz of cupped balls, Hux soon found himself teetering closer to the edge than was practical, his cockhead pressing against the back of Kylo Ren’s throat.

And then the man looked up, eyes dark and damp, lips reddened and damp around his cock, and he came. _Hard_.

Ren swallowed it. All of it. And Hux’s hands spasmed on the blanket as he drew back, tight claws he didn’t know how to relax. Ren’s fingers moved over his lips even as he swiped his tongue over them, as fastidious as a felinx.

And then he glanced up, and frowned. “Well, are you just going to leave me here unsatisfied?”

Hux blinked. And then, he smiled. “Yes.”

Predictably, Ren turned on him with a snarling cry that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on some primitive battlefield. Unafraid, smirking, Hux did not protest as the brute shoved him down, stretching his hands over his head, his own hand pressed bruise-hard against locked wrists.

And Hux cocked an eyebrow, as mild as it was mocking. “ _Really_ , Ren?”

“You’re an officer,” he sneered, great weight pressing hard against his pelvis. “Forgive me for thinking you might also be a _gentleman_.”

This time he just rolled his eyes. “Take your clothes off, Ren.” Taking advantage of his surprise, Hux broke his hands free, shoved both open palms against Ren’s chest to force him back. There, at the side of the bed, he stripped himself bare. As he stepped out of his underclothes he had turned already in the direction of the ‘fresher; he was unsurprised to find it well-stocked. But when he returned, he found Ren hardly as ready.

“I thought I told you to get undressed.”

Ren’s surprise was almost a palpable thing. “I thought you were…teasing me.”

At least his headache was gone, he thought with sour glee. “Hurry up,” he said with sharp command, rolling the glass bottle between impatient hands. “We haven’t got all night.”

“Actually, I think we do.”

Hux paused to let that percolate, for a moment. They hadn’t even made a call to the _Finalizer_ yet. And somehow that actually wasn’t the worst thing he had heard all day. “ _Ren_ ,” he said, and it was equally both promise and threat as he flicked open the scented oil, slicking his fingers. Reaching behind himself with knowing ease, he tilted his head, watched Ren in wordless disdain as the other man could only stare, gormless as Hux had ever seen him. Only once he’d worked three fingers in did he pull free. Then, with a snort, Hux walked over, straddled those wide thighs with graceful ease.

“I thought you wanted me to _satisfy_ you?”

Ren licked his lips, eyes darting between Hux’s cool gaze, and the reddened head of his own twitching cock. “Yeah, but—”

“Shut up.” With his hand about the root, Hux leaned back, sank down before he could regret decisions long since made. With teeth sharp into his own lip, Hux drew a shuddering breath: it had been a long time. Too long, probably. It felt better than it should have. _Far_ better, especially considering the person attached to the cock in his ass. But it was broad, rich with thick heat. And Ren proved surprisingly accommodating; even as his hips rolled, chest thrust forward as his great shoulders pressed back into the bed, Ren let Hux move as he would. Even his grasping hands had turned light upon on his waist, almost reverent; the dark eyes had gone very wide, mouth opened on gasping breath.

Hux only smirked. Then, he rolled his own hips – and clenched down. Hard. His own dick was already half-interested again. Hux ignored it, far more intrigued with the idea of watching Ren come apart. And he did, a moment later; his fingers dug sudden and sharp into his pale skin, leaving what would undoubtedly be twined sprays of sickle-shaped bruising. Hux didn’t care. Instead he laughed, low in his throat, even as Ren’s head snapped back, a shout echoing about the room loud enough to make his own ears hurt. And as the lights flickered above them both, the bed moving sideways by two groaning feet, warmth filled him from the inside out. And Hux closed his eyes, stilled. His smile, secret and small, he kept to himself.

Only when Ren’s breathing had returned to something resembling human did he pull off, the twinge in his thighs making him half-hide a surprised wince. It had been too long, indeed. Without guile he flopped down beside the still man, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. Some skilled artisan had plastered the thing in intricate patterns; native flora and fauna, presumably. It was surprisingly nice. At least Ren had chosen an upscale hotel to defraud with their debauchery.

“Hux?”

He turned his head, thoughts half-clouded by the impending threat of sleep. “What?”

“I…” Not meeting his eyes, Ren cleared his throat. It sounded oddly vulnerable, for all the rasp of it. Apparently, he had screamed even louder than Hux had thought. “…I can’t believe you _fucked_ me.”

“Technically, _you_ fucked _me_.”

Ren blinked, very rapidly. And he didn’t stop staring at the ceiling. “True.”

But even as that great body tensed, muscles bunched and gathered for sudden flight, Hux’s hand moved out and slapped down hard on his forearm. “Don’t go anywhere.” And when Ren at last rolled his head towards him, Hux raised one eyebrow. “It’s _your_ turn, next.”

“What, you want to do this again?”

Hux had been told his most innocent smile was frankly diabolical. He couldn’t think of a better opportunity to abuse the talent. “Don’t you?”

“…yes.”

“Good.” And he kicked out with one foot, caught him in the shin. “Now shut up. I need to rest.”

“Well.” Ren had returned to staring at the ceiling. A moment later, he let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I should learn to respect the limits of my elders, then.”

Hux’s reply was incomprehensible as he turned, lips curled back from his teeth; a moment later and Ren lay trapped beneath his furious weight. Hux swallowed his laughter with fierce kiss. Oh, how he would _pay_.

But Hux did pretend not to notice how willing a penitent Ren really was.


End file.
